Disclaimer

The following represents the kind of self-indulgent post you are not likely to see on this blog. I’ve tried to simulate the kind of writing which has upset me over the years.

“Hey sorry I’ve been away for so long and haven’t been able to write. Life has been so hectic. It seems like every time I look around there’s another obstacle in my way, another roadblock in my highway of hope.

Today was one of those days where you know life is going to throw a curveball your way, and rather than try to smack it out of the park its best to just watch it slide easily into the catcher’s mitt so you get a chance to appreciate all its complexities.

I started off the day by waking up and brushing my teeth. At breakfast mom was on my case about my lack of a serious relationship. Why, oh, why mom, do we have this dance every morning? Is a quiet breakfast too much to ask for? Suddenly, my father flashed me that knowing smile he reserves for me when he knows I’m depressed. Its funny isn’t it, how the tiniest of gestures can make the world of difference? I think that’s what life is all about: the little things.

On my way to work an incredibly interesting thing happened. I took a shorter route and noticed a new billboard being erected at a junction. I couldn’t help but stop a while and admire the paradox right in front of me. Here, in a matter of hours, was a work of art for everyone to see. And it is a work of art, isn’t it? It’s a creation. It sends a message. It communicates through visual imagery. But then the paradox: it’s an advertisement. Do commercials represent a defilement of art? Should all art be lofty and highbrow? Does a work of art require an estrangement from worldly conventions? Is the billboard painter an artist? Am I gay? As I stood there and pondered these questions, I realized that this may be what life is all about: the eternal paradox.

Work was the usual. My boss was out of town so I was able to take a longer lunch break. I ate a sandwich. Chicken and mayo with a slice of cheese. Make that two slices of cheese. And the bread had the crust cut off. Poor crust – banished from my meal due to its insignificance and incongruity in taste in relation to the white center. That got me thinking about the race issue in America. Do white people represent the white portion of the bread while the minorities are the crust? We are so quick to cut off the crust. But do we ever try to UNDERSTAND the crust? Maybe the crust can gel with the rest of the sandwich. Maybe we should compromise for the sake of the crust. Including it in my meal would be more enriching. Sitting at the lunch table, I realized that life is about not discarding the crust.”

Anyway, I could go on but you get the general gist. I was initially pretty averse to blogging since the judgmental streak in me couldn’t fathom why anyone should care about a total stranger writing about their life as if it means anything to anyone.

This is not a mission statement though. Im pretty sure JJY and I (if we ever make it big, that’ll be the title of our biographical movie) will comment about some aspect of our personal lives and experiences. Where else can we get material from? But it probably won’t be in the nature of an itemized rundown of your day. Though there are exceptions. For example, if I bang a model, you can be sure I’ll be posting a very detailed description of the entire 24 hours surrounding that event.